You Make It Feel Like Christmas
by kimba821
Summary: Yes...I'm well aware Christmas is over...
1. Prologue

Prologue: You Make It Feel Like Christmas  
  
Disclaimer: er...I don't own Hey Arnold! Okay?  
  
****Please read this****  
  
Yes, I'm well aware Christmas is over, I know this is a little late, but what do ya know? Inspiration hit me Christmas day...anyway if you'd rather not read it cause it's out of place that's up to you...just tell me in your reviews and I won't bother posting any chapters after the first one until the next Yuletide season comes around.  
  
I've been having problems accessing geocities lately, which is why this isn't on my site...I have no idea when I'll be able to post it there.  
  
Setting: The future...Helga's daughter is narrating.   
  
  
You've probably heard over and over again there are some things money can't buy. Well you definitely can't put a price tag on that feeling you get at Christmas, oh that joyous feeling, so heavenly, so wonderful, yet so hard to find. It comes so easily to some people, I've noticed. For those young children, filled with happy dreams and delight of what Santa might bring....  
  
But I had reached a healthy age of 11, much too old to believe in such childhood nonsense. But it still depressed me to watch my younger siblings and cousins open their presents with haste, eyes sparkling in anticipation of what might lay beneath the colorful wrapping paper and bright ribbons. I would watch with a fake smile plastered on my lips and think to myself: oh to be young again! For I have come to the conclusion after much careful analyzing that Christmas is a magical time for only two types of people.  
  
Most obviously are little children who believe in talking snowmen, flying reindeer, and a saint with many incredible abilities including going down chimneys. Those little children get up Christmas morning and race downstairs to find that the milk and cookies had vanished with a small note left by Saint Nick himself. Then they turn to the tree and their eyes would see it before them...picture perfect...all lit up with mountains of presents filling up half the living room. They would squeal with delight and open all their presents under the watchful eyes of their parents. Of course they would get everything their hearts desired and more.  
  
I watched the youngsters sadly. Yes, they truly enjoyed Christmas. But with years come wisdom and you age only to discover there is no such thing as Santa Claus and that reindeer really can not fly, then Christmas looses that certain magical touch and you can never hold that same wonderful feeling again. (I know what must be going through your mind right now...what about giving??? Isn't that what Christmas is supposed to be all about?? Yeah, I'm well aware of that, but for me it seems like giving is not enough. It seems like Christmas is still missing something, but I'll explain later.)  
  
I turned to face my parents. My mother was resting her head on my father's shoulder when suddenly my younger brother screamed with delight at the new toy he had just unwrapped. My parents smiled at their child's glee and then turn to gaze into each other's eyes before they kissed.  
  
Of course my brother immediately ruined this tender moment by jumping up and down, begging our Dad to help him try out his new genuine leather baseball mitt and imitation major league ball.  
  
I sighed. Well there was one exemption to that statement I previously made. That magic of Christmas can only truly return to you again when you fall in love. My brother dragged my Dad outside where the snow had just stopped falling and a winter wonderland lay. My mother stood at the front door in her robe and slippers sipping coffee as my father and brother played in the street. I slumped down on the couch.   
  
Love, I thought, loved changes everything. I so much wanted to be in love (even though I am still just 11)...to gaze into that certain special someone's eyes and immediately realize that he was the one I would love forever...to get those butterflies in your stomach...that's what I wanted for Christmas...to be in love. Of course that is a gift you can never buy no matter how many banks you are willing to rob. My thoughts were abruptly disturbed by the voices from outside and I turned towards the window.  
  
"Hey! What was that for?!" cried my father, desperately trying to get the cold snow off his neck before it melted. My little brother stood farther down the street with a hand over his mouth trying to stifle his giggles. My mother stood on the doorstep with a sly grin. She tossed another snowball up in the air and casually caught it.  
  
"That's for not inviting me to come out," she laughed. My father threw his hands in the air showing how helpless he was in the situation.  
  
"You can't blame me! It was him!" He pointed to where my brother stood with his new mitt and ball still giggling away.  
  
"Well, I do have the better arm," my mother exclaimed proudly while my father just rolled his eyes.  
  
"Come on dear, all the kid wanted was to have some quality time with his dad playing ball, right son?" I think my father realized that was the wrong thing to say immediately after the words had slipped from his mouth. My parents both turned to my brother, but even at his youthful age he knew better than to respond. He just stood silent. My mother turned back to my father.  
  
"Quality time with dad, huh? Whatever happened to quality time with Mom?"  
  
My father opened his mouth to answer but he was unable to utter a single syllable because a snowball hit him in the mouth. Bullseye.  
  
"Quality time that!" exclaimed my mother triumphantly as my father spat out the snow. She rubbed her hands together. It had been a perfect shoot. She turned to face my brother who was now in a fit of hysterics. "Now that's how you throw a snowball-"  
  
She was interrupted when she felt a sharp coldness hit her back and she could not help but shriek at the iciness it brought. She turned to glare at my father who stood with his hands in his pockets innocently whistling.  
  
Before you could say Merry Christmas a snowball fight had erupted between my parents with my brother constantly switching sides never able to pledge his full alliance to one of them.  
  
Now where was I? Aaaah, yes love...of course no one knew it better than my parents. I have never meant another couple more in love than they were. They had often told me that for them love had not been an easy road paved in shimmering gold, but instead one with bumps, confusing signs, not to mention surprising twists and turns. But nevertheless they had made it. In spite of it all that had happened between them they were still deeply even madly in love. They had told me their story before and I could hear their voices speaking to me while I watched the snowball fight between them despite the fact that under their winter coats they were still donned in pjs.  
  
That's the funny thing about love, it comes when you least expect it, leaving you unprepared for the consequences it brings, but what really mattered was that it came and in the end that's all that matters...  
  
  
If you're a little lost read chapter one it'll make things more clear.  
  



	2. Under the Miseltoe

You Make It Feel Like Christmas: Chapter 1  
  
Disclaimer: What can I say? I don't own Hey Arnold!  
  
Our 8th Grade Christmas....  
  
~Arnold~  
  
I couldn't help but watch them. They were kissing under the mistletoe and for some reason that bothered me. Maybe I just didn't feel comfortable with her hanging out with that guy. But then why did it matter whether or not I felt comfortable? Why did I feel like I should be protecting her?  
  
I turned away, trying to keep those weird questions from popping up in my mind. They had been troubling me a lot lately and I had no idea why. Form what I had heard he was a pretty descent guy even though he was a few years older. His looks were definitely nothing to be ashamed of and he had a certain charm that most people could not help but adore. But there was something about him I didn't like. She acted different around him. I guess it was just weird to see her flirting with some guy. She's not exactly the flirty type of girl.  
  
I decided to go wonder down some other aisle; it was better to just get away from them. I tried to focus on what my actual purpose was at the market: trying to buy groceries. I was turning the corner to go the dairy section when- SMACK! I was sent sprawling to the ground along with another person. I quickly stood up.  
  
"Oh, I'm sorry about that- Helga?" She sat there on the ground gazing at me with the most unreadable look in her eyes. I helped her up. I think she must have been a little startled and dazed from the collision because it took her quite some time for her to react.  
  
"Don't touch me!" She snatched her hand away that I had still been holding from helping her up. I studied her for a brief moment, gazing into those fiery blue eyes.  
  
There had always been something about her that puzzled me. So many things about her had changed. She was taller and looked down at me ever more than before. Her harsh treatment of the others had been lessening that is except her treatment of me. It seemed like nothing would ever change between us. She was destined to forever despise me and torture me despite the fact that I had never hurt her. Her looks were not bad well they had never been bad from the beginning. She still wore her pigtails on a daily basis, but for special occasions I've seen her wear her hair in different styles and it did remind me of this other girl I used to know.... Anyway, she still had an awkwardness to her, but I guess that is typical for any 13 year old myself included.  
  
Some people wonder why her boyfriend decided to go out with her. For a while it was great puzzle to me too. The boy, Andrew was his name, was a 10th grader with a solid reputation for being able to charm any girl. Almost every girl I knew was willing to go out with him including ones with much more attractive qualities than Helga. But what did Andrew really see in Helga? I had a deep feeling that it was her spunk and vivacity that really drew him towards her.  
  
"Take a picture, it'll last longer."  
  
I immediately snapped out of my thoughts. I remembered where I was and that Helga was standing before me.  
  
"Sorry, Helga, I was just thinking." She stared at me for a brief second before replying.  
  
"You think too much." I simply shrugged. We stood there in an awkward silence that lasted for a while.  
  
"I guess I better get going. I've got some groceries I need to pick up before Christmas." She opened her mouth like she wanted to say something, but for some reason couldn't. She closed it only to open it again. I wondered if she was aware how much she reminded me of a fish.  
  
"Yeah, see ya football head."  
  
"Can you please not call me that?" Okay, I'll admit it. I'm not sure why I said that. I knew it was the wrong thing to say. From before I could remember she had always called me that name and the only reaction I had ever had if any was a slightly annoyed glance. The name had never really bothered me before and well it did not even bother me now. Realizing my mistake I slipped past her almost afraid of the outburst I was sure would come.  
  
"I can call you anything I like, FOOTBALLHEAD!!" she snapped, following me through the store. I shuddered. But for some reason I pursued the subject. Trust me, I knew it was not the right thing to do. I should have just ignored her, but instead I looked over my shoulder to call back to her.  
  
"I would just appreciate it if you called me by my actual name. You do call everyone else by theirs." I was ready to slap myself. I was well aware that I was just making her madder. She had always been the type that angered easily. I continued to walk among the aisles of the store as if I was running away from her.  
  
"Well, I'm going to call you Footballhead because whether you like it or not according to me it is your real name! And if you are going to have a problem with that you'd better be prepared to meet Old Betsey." It seemed like it had been a long time since I had heard her use her right fist's name. It seemed kinda childish at the moment. I stopped and Helga soon stood next to me.  
  
"Fine, Helga, I give up. Call me whatever you like," I said glumly. I was about to turn away when I noticed something. We had been meandering around the store during our argument and I looked up only to discover that I had led her right under the mistletoe she had been kissing her boyfriend under earlier. She must have seen the peculiar look on my face because she glanced up and I knew she saw the mistletoe. I stood there, very flustered debating in my mind of what I should do.  
  
  
~Helga~  
  
Had he led me there on purpose? The mistletoe was dangling above us. I was ready to reach up and rip apart the small plant and at the same time I was ready to kiss it because of the good fortune it had brought me....  
  
Good fortune?! Criminey! I sounded like a two-timer. I had a steady boyfriend yet I was just dying to be kissed by some other guy. Well this isn't just any other guy...this is Arnold. I was more than willing to strange that little voice inside of me. I guess I was to busy trying to find a way to shut that stupid voice up that I did not notice my beloved was leaning closer to me and had placed his hands on my shoulders.  
  
Before I knew what was happening he was kissing me softly. He had to go on his tip-toes to reach my lips. Grrrr...I wish I did not have such long legs or at least that Arnold did not have such short ones. Anyway, I felt like I was going to faint. Okay, it may not have been the most romantic of settings, but under the mistletoe at the market was better than no Christmas kiss at all!  
  
After a few seconds he pulled away with a sheepish grin on his face. I wanted to say something nice, I really did. I wanted to return the kiss, but I let my dumb instincts get in the way. I jumped back away from him in disgust.  
  
"Don't ever touch me, ever again!" I wanted to cover my mouth with my hand. I had screamed the words awfully loud, which caused some customer to turn and stare at us. Arnold looked startled too and I could see the pain his green eyes. Look what you did to him! You hurt him! Shut up, shut up, shut up!!  
  
"Look, I've gotta go." I spun around on my heels to make my quick getaway. I almost made it out of the store.  
  
"Helga, wait! You said you would stay until my shift was over." I gave a sideways glance to find Andrew at the register rapidly checking out customers' groceries.   
  
"Er...yeah, I forgot." I pulled up a stool next to him. I wanted to look over my shoulder to see what Arnold was doing, but I knew better than to look back. That would be too obvious.  
  
"There 9 o'clock. I'm done for the day. That wasn't too long of a wait, was it? You're not dead yet so let's get outta here," said Andrew. I jumped off the stool and he led the way out of the store. At no time whatsoever did I turn to look for any sight of Arnold.  
  
As soon as we stepped outside we were met with the bitter cold air and the sharp December wind. I shivered. Andrew put his arm around me and pulled me closer. A thought immediately popped into my brain. Had he seen Arnold kissing me? He had been on the other side of the store working...so there was no way he could have noticed...right???  
  
"So who was that guy you were lip-locking with?" Criminey! How could he have seen us?  
  
"Just some guy from school...no big deal." My response was rushed and I could tell I was giving myself away.  
  
"Oh, because it looked like something else." His voiced sounded strange, almost bitter, angry even and all from some dumb meaningless kiss? You know it wasn't some meaningless kiss. Be quiet!!!  
  
He had looked at other girls while we had been going out before and I had never let it get me. I knew better then to get too attached and become overprotective. No you don't you hypocrite! You can't deny how overprotective you've always been of Arnold! Keeping other girls from falling for him, trying to shield him from the harshness of the real world, more than ready to risk life and limb for him... CRIMINEY!! Why couldn't that stupid voice just be silent for once!  
  
"Look it was nothing...really," I bitterly replied. We had reached the doorstep of my house. He turned to face me, he slipped his arms around my wait and kissed me.  
  
"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to over react-"  
  
"Don't worry about it," I hastily replied. "I think I'll be able to survive an overreaction...just don't make it a habit." He grinned at me. More kissing. It was then that I felt this strange coldness on my neck. I guess Andrew must have felt it too because we both turned to look up. It was snowing. The small white flakes were making their way to the ground at a gradually faster pace.  
  
"Look's like we are going to have a white Christmas." I could only nod. I loved watching the snow fall...every distinct snowflake seemed like a tiny gift from the sky. But it seemed to be a much a greater gift this night for it was Christmas' Eve. We stood there for some time with an eerie silence lingering the frigid, night air. I could see from the streetlight that the snow was coming down heavier now.  
  
"You better go...I think a blizzard might be coming." He nodded.  
  
"Yeah, Merry Christmas, Helga. I'll call you some time tomorrow."  
  
"Sure, whatever...oh and Merry Christmas to you too, Andrew," I added quickly before darting inside. It was getting awfully cold standing outside and I did not have a scarf on.  
  
I shook the snow off my hair and proceed in taking off my snow boots and winter coat. It was not like I did not appreciate Andrew...I just did not love him. I sighed. I was too young for that kind of relationship anyway, and it was much easier to pretend your head over heals for some show-off guy then admit-  
  
"Oh, Helga, where have you been?" asked my mother.  
  
"Out, Miriam," I stated simply.  
  
"Your sister's home!" boomed Bob.  
  
"Oh, Helga, I've been here waiting for you to return all day!" Before I could do anything to stop her my sister pranced up towards me and snatched me up in a crushing embrace. I felt the air being pushed out of my lungs and it made me want to march straight back outside. I'd take standing in the freezing air with the snow falling down on my neck over seeing my sister any day.  
  
  
  
I know...a little out of season, but please review and tell me what you think.  



	3. The Docks

Disclaimer: um, HA! is not mine so please don't bother suing me...it would be a waste.  
  
  
*******Please read******  
  
Thanks for the reviews. This is sort of long. It was supposed to be in the first chapter, but it didn't quite fit in with the mood.  
  
I'm not sure when I can post the next chapter...I haven't even started working on it. The marking period is almost over and midterms are coming up so I'm not sure when I can get time to sit down and work on it. But maybe you're reviews will inspire me...  
  
Eh, this is just kind of a warning...this is a sad chapter...just in case you wanted to know  
  
  
Our 8th Grade Christmas cont'd  
  
Chapter 2  
  
  
  
~Arnold~  
  
I kicked a stone that was on the street and I watched it casually roll away until it disappeared down a storm drain. I wondered where the rock had gone, perhaps down to where the Sewer King was.  
  
I shivered and I had every reason to. It was way below freezing and snow was beginning to fall. A white Christmas. For some reason it did not seem as great. Maybe I was just letting Helga get to me.  
  
I sighed. It wasn't fair. Why did Helga get to have someone special to share the magic of Christmas with and I didn't? My love life...it was a sad thing. I had never seemed to have much luck with girls. The ones I fell for were either complete air-heads or had no romantic interests whatsoever in me. Well there was that girl...but I never really got to know her, although it seemed like I had known her or at least she knew me...but that was years ago and I guess I would probably never find out who she was.  
  
But then she came back to mind. That girl. I shuddered at her memory. I could still hear her voice, the sound echoing in my ears. She was the kind of person you want to forget but you never can. There was some lasting thing about her that forever lingered in my thoughts. She made no sense at all...nothing about her did...maybe that was what I had admired in her. Her unpredictability. I pushed the thoughts in the back of mind as I rounded the corner. There is no use chasing after someone who does not even exist.  
  
I had reached Vine Street and I could see the red boardinghouse from the corner. It like many other houses had Christmas lights lit up. It was a beautiful sight. The brightly colored lights, so decorative and festive were a constant reminder of the greatness of the Yuletide season.  
  
I passed by one house. They had definitely gone overboard with the Christmas decorations this year. Red, green, white, yellow, blue, Santa statue, reindeer, and so on. I seriously doubted there was a square inch of that building that did not hold at least one dazzling light.  
  
I had arrived at the boardinghouse and my arms were grateful since I had been lugging back groceries. I put them down as I reached out to open the door, but before I did I took one last look at the streets. The lights were pretty, but at the same time for some reason they seemed different at that moment. How should I describe it...tacky? No, although some were that's not it. Childish. Yes, that's the one. For one reason or another I stood on the stoop looking over the neighborhood and wondered why everyone made such a big fuss over the holiday. I knew there were the religious reasons, but I was well aware that the majority of those who celebrated hardly even when to church. Perhaps everyone just made a huge deal over nothing at all...just an excuse for taking off work or getting school off...  
  
What a funny thing to think at my age. I felt like I was wise beyond my years as I stood there pondering about how almost silly the whole idea of Christmas was. I smiled to myself. If I felt wise beyond my years at 13 then I wondered what how wise I would feel at 31. Or 50. Or 70. Or-  
  
"Kimba, I know you've been out scavenging for any signs of nourishment and you want to savor your glory moment of completing you mission, but come inside the Colonel has been waiting for news of your arrival." I turned to see my grandma standing at the doorway.  
  
"Okay, Grandma," I said with a sigh and I entered the building. The warm air of the boardinghouse never felt cozier and more wonderful than after a walk through the snow. I saw the festivities going on inside. Maybe making such a big deal out of Christmas was not a bad idea after all...   
  
  
~Afternoon of the Next Day~   
  
  
~Helga~  
  
  
"Helga, there's a call for you." I had been fiddling with my new CD player and I got up expecting to hear Andrew's familiar, deep voice.  
  
"Hello?" It wasn't him instead it was a voice I had not heard in a while.  
  
"Helga, its Phoebe."  
  
There was something I had always admired in Phoebe. I think it was the way that I did not have to explain things to her...she just understood. Maybe that was what I missed the most about her. She never needed an explanation, she never asked why. She would do what I wanted...no questions asked. I don't tell people things. If they really wanted to know, I've decided that they should figure it out themselves. Phoebe was smart enough to do that and sometimes I wondered if she knew me even better than I knew myself...  
  
But people grow older only to discover it is nearly impossible to stay friends forever. It's not like we had become enemies...no, not at all. I knew she would never become my enemy...she knew me too well. We just drifted apart as most best friends do at sometime or another. Once we had graduated from elementary school and moved on to Junior High she and Gerald had become very close. They had always been good friends since before I could remember, but years passed and it was quite obvious that they were much more than friends.   
  
I didn't mind her hanging out with Gerald as much as people think I did. I didn't let it get me because of all she had done for me before. I perceived it was time to let go. I would watch her lingering on Gerald's every word. She looked almost pathetic and I guess I could see how things used to be. It used to be me standing there. I had been the leader and Phoebe the follower, more than willing to obey my commands...my orders. In that way she had always been a sad person who never stood up for herself. Her independence did grow I have to admit and her shyness had diminished under Gerald's influence. Someone once told me that no one can ever stay a follower their entire life and I knew she was no exception.   
  
"Helga, are you still there?" I snapped out of my thoughts. Poor Phoebe, I had not said anything for almost an entire minute.  
  
"Yeah, I'm still there Pheebs."  
  
"Good. I just called to wish you a Merry Christmas. I did not get a chance to tell you that at school."  
  
"Oh." I immediately realized something was going on. I could tell...it was the sound of her voice that gave it away plus her lame excuse for calling me. Her voice, although it seemed steady, had a certain uneasiness to it and a strange softness that I had not heard in an awfully long time.  
  
"Phoebe?" I was beginning to tremble and I was not sure why. I knew something bad was coming. I could feel it in the atmosphere. "What's wrong?"  
  
I heard a sigh. She knew she could not get anything by me. She had to tell me.  
  
"Helga...I think there is something you need to know." Her voice was mournful and it scared me.  
  
"What, Phoebe? What happened?" I heard another sigh.  
  
"It happened a long time ago, but now we finally know...why and how...we finally know..."   
  
It seemed like a dream as I sat there on my bed listening to the girl who used to be my best friend. When she was finished I did not know what to say or what even I was supposed to say. I was still trying to absorb everything she had told me. It came as such a shock. I felt my eyes begin to water and I jumped up to face my mirror just in time to see a salty tear trickle down my cheek. I could not remember the last time I had cried...  
  
It's funny the places you go to when you need to get away. I mumbled something about going out to my family before slipping on my snow boots and winter coat. I stepped outside. It had stopped snowing a while ago, but a white blanket at least six inches thick still laid on the frozen ground.   
  
Sometimes when you need to think you go to a place and let old memories flow through your mind. You don't want to forget, but at the same time you don't want to remember...it hurts too bad.   
  
I was not thinking about where I was going, but I got there all the same like I knew I would. The docks. They were peaceful yet for one reason or another they haunted me with memories.  
  
I arrived to see him there. I wasn't surprised. I had a feeling he would be there. I thought about turning around and going somewhere else. Perhaps he needed to be alone, but at the same time I knew he needed someone more than ever. I took a deep breath and prepared to announce my presence.  
  
He stirred. Damn, he had good ears. He looked over his shoulder to see me and I saw him slightly frown at the sight of me.   
  
"Hi, Arnold." I forced myself to say it as sweetly as I could bring myself to do.  
  
"What do you want, Helga?" His voice was sharp and bitter. He did not want me around, but I could not leave...my legs refused to move.  
  
"Arnold," I began trying to decide what I should say to him. I had never seen a more pained look in his emerald green eyes. Never. When I had yelled at him the other day, or even when Lila had dumped him did not even come close. "I heard about what happened and I'm sorry." I fiddled nervously with my gloves: taking them off then putting them back on.  
  
He studied me for a second before turning to look out at the water. "Thanks." He did not sound like he meant it. I took a step towards him. I should have just left. I didn't belong here, did I? Yes, you know you do.  
  
No one said anything. I gradually stepped nearer to him and I soon found myself sitting beside him. After an eternity he broke the silence.  
  
"It doesn't come as much of a surprise to me. Inside I've known what had happened to them. I just...all those years I refused to admit it...I clung to the hope that they were alive...I knew they were dead...I've known it all along."  
  
I watched him and saw how fragile he was and how much he had been hurt his entire life...what he had to live with. I wondered if he had cried when he had heard the news. For a split second I thought he was going to, but he swallowed the urge back. I had never seen him cry...he was such a strong boy.  
  
It was at that moment that I noticed he was holding something in his hand. It was a photograph.  
  
"Is that them?" I motioned towards the picture. He simply nodded and handed me the old photograph. An edge had been slightly torn in the corner. The man was handsome with a charming smile and wavy yellow hair. The woman was beautiful even with her melon-shaped head. She had brown hair and a certain softness to her face. I glanced at Arnold who was still gazing at the photograph. He had her kind eyes. I gave the picture back to him. He looked at it a little longer before slipping it into his coat pocket.  
  
"Did you know I would be here?" he asked still focusing on the ships out at sea. I shrugged. I didn't want him to know the truth.  
  
"I don't know...this is where I like to go when I need to think. I don't know why though." He turned away from the water to look at me.  
  
"Helga?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Where do you think they are right now?" His voice sounded different, but I was not sure in what way. He seemed curious...he really wanted to know my opinion. I smiled at him and spoke gently.  
  
"I bet they're in heaven and at this very moment they're looking down on us." I paused to look at the water since for some reason I could not bear to look into his eyes any longer. "They don't want you to be sad," I continued. "They know that it is time for you to move on, Arnold. Remember them, but don't let memories and regrets haunt you forever...that's what they would have wanted you to do."  
  
It sounded corny, but it was the most comforting thing I could think of to say. Did I believe there was such a place as heaven? Or that there was an all mighty God? I had never given it much thought. But for now it was nice to think that an afterlife existed...it made death seem more inviting and hopeful...that there was a chance someday he could see his long lost parents.   
  
A cold blast of icy wind suddenly blew upon my neck and I shivered. I had forgotten my scarf again. Arnold noticed.  
  
"Here, Helga." He took off the red scarf that he had been wearing and slipped it around my neck.  
  
"Thanks," I replied. My voice was barely above a whisper. My instincts were to yell at him, but I restrained myself. Not when he was in this state.  
  
"We probably should get back. It's getting late." I leaped at his words. He had said WE not I! He stood up and offered his hand to help me up. I let him, but I slightly scowled. He did not seem to mind too much.  
  
"Could I walk you home?" Yes, yes, yes!! He wants to walk you home. Ugh. No matter how much I tried to stop it there was that little voice inside of me constantly reminding me of my love for Arnold. But did I still love him? I wasn't quite sure. If I did love him, it was not the way I had loved him before. The obsession had ended. Obsessions like most things grow old fast...  
  
"Uh, Helga? Are you alright?"  
  
"Uh, yeah, sure, whatever floats your boat." I shuddered at the sarcasm of my voice. He smiled in that patient way of his and led me away from the docks and the memories that lingered in the icy air of December.  
  
We were silent as we trudged home in the snow, but silence speaks louder than words. I think we each had our own thoughts and did not want to disturb each other. By the time we had reached my house the sky was dark with an exception of the last shimmering rays of the sun off to the west.  
  
"Thanks, Helga."  
  
"For what?" I asked.  
  
"For talking to me. I needed that." Like some impulsion from inside of him he leaned forward and hugged me. The sudden embrace had caught me off guard.  
  
"Er...it was nothing, Footballhead," I nervously replied.  
  
"It made me feel a lot better." I raised my chin and looked at him.  
  
"Don't expect anything to change between us because it won't and I don't know if things ever will." Damn, my tongue. "But if you do need someone to talk to...I'm here. I can't say I know how you feel, but I understand...comprende, geekbait?"  
  
I saw it in his eyes. Understanding. He smiled. "I know." I turned to go inside, but as I reached the top step of the stoop I remembered. I took off the scarf and tossed it to him.  
  
"Thanks," I mumbled as he caught it. He just grinned as he proceeded in wrapping it around his own neck.  
  
"It was nothing." I turned away from him and entered my house. As soon as the door was shut behind me I leaned my body back against it and slid down to the floor, drawing my knees up to my chin. I wondered when life would ever start getting simpler...  
  
  
~Arnold~  
  
  
Long ago I gave up trying to understand her. One minute she would hate me and the next she acted so caring towards me I'd think we were actually friends and maybe we were...  
  
I remembered what happened earlier today as I trudged back towards the boardinghouse in the snow. It had not been the Christmas gift I had wanted to receive.  
  
~earlier- about midday~  
  
"Thanks, Gerald, for coming with me to tryout my new hockey stick."  
  
"No, problem man. What are friends for? Besides it gave me a chance to try my new, wicked awesome ice skates."  
  
We had reached the boardinghouse. I noticed that a strange car was parked in front. I had never seen it before. I shrugged. Perhaps it belonged to a boarder's relative who had stopped by for a visit on Christmas day. Without giving it a second thought I turned towards Gerald.  
  
"Would you like to come in? I bet Grandma could make you some hot chocolate." I knew that was too tempting an offer for Gerald. His toes like mine were probably nearly frozen.  
  
"Sure, Arnold. Man, could I go for some hot cocoa right now!" We entered the boardinghouse. It was surprisingly very quiet for Christmas day. We walked into the kitchen and my eyes widened at what I saw.  
  
My grandparents sat at the table along with a man I did not recognize, although there was a strange familiarity to him. All three adults looked up when we had entered. I could see the man in better detail now. He seemed to be foreign with a black mustache. I guessed he had Latin American ancestry.   
  
I tore my eyes away from him and focused on my grandparents. I had never seen a more serious look on either of their faces. I noticed each of them were holding an object. Both were old, ripped, torn, and charred black.  
  
"Grandma...grandpa?" I was beginning to shake. Gerald stood beside me with the most bewildered expression on his face. I watched the adults exchange a glance.  
  
"Arnold," began grandpa not bothering to use his usual name for me, "this man here is Edwardo. He was a friend of your parents." I looked at the man still clinging to the faint hope I had always possessed.  
  
The man cleared his throat.  
  
"You have to know something. Your parents as you've probably already been told were sent to come to our village in the mountains to save my people. You see...they never made it." There was a long pause. I did not move a muscle, not even to blink. "There was a storm...the plane was too old...it could not take the storm...we sent out search parties to find them...nothing was found...not a trace of what had happened...a few weeks ago...a native in the thickest part of the jungle found a propeller. He contacted us. We searched the area and we found it...after ten years...it had been buried in the depth of the jungle near no civilization...the plane and their bodies...I'm sorry." I watched the man as a few tears slipped down his cheek.   
  
When you first hear bad news you do not do anything at all. You just stand there like your numb, completely deaf to the world. You can't think, speak, or move. You do not know what to do. Then little by little you absorb the information and then it really begins to hurt. There's an ache in your stomach similar to right after you had been sick and had just thrown up. You feel this painful emptiness...something is missing, but unlike a simple tummy ache, you know the hole can never be filled up again.  
  
I wondered what I looked like standing there after hearing that my parents were dead. No one knew what to say. Silence. It passed for a few minutes more. All the while my stomach was killing me. It was sharp and it felt like someone was stabbing the inside of me with a knife. Gerald finally brook the silence.  
  
"Arnold, I'm sorry." Anger flashed through my mind. He should be sorry! Nothing bad ever happened to him. He had the perfect, typical family. He did not know the meaning of sorrow or regret like I did. I paused and calmed myself down. It's not his fault...you can't blame him.  
  
Regret. It flowed through my mind. I imagined when anything tragic happened people go through their 'if only I had...', their 'what if...', and their 'it could have been prevented' thoughts. They went through me now.  
  
Gerald soon left. I guess he found the awkwardness way too overbearing and maybe he knew I needed time alone. The man, Edwardo, left as well. Tipping his hat and apologizing for bringing such sorrowful news on what was supposed to be a happy and glorious day he walked out the door. Something inside of me told me that I would never see him again.  
  
~present~  
  
I sighed. Only the day before I had been complaining about my love life. It's funny how one thing can seem so important one day and the next hardly matter at all.  
  
But Helga had made me feel so much better. She had always been good at that...sometimes, or at least when she wants tries.  
  
I was so lost in thought I turned the corner of Vine Street too sharply. (What can I say? It was a bad habit of mine). SMACK!! I was sent to the ground and to my great surprise I stood up quickly and reached my hand out to help none other than...  
  
"Andrew?!"  
  
  
C'est la fin!  
  
Okay...I didn't want to have to kill off his parents, but I had to...it's important to the story. (I knew in reality Craig would never do that to us....right?!)  
  
Was it too sad? Too long?  
  
Is it going too slowly (or perhaps even too fast)?  
  
Is it too descriptive with not enough action? (I have a bad habit of doing that especially during the first few chapters).  
  
Please review. I need to know. It'll help me improve.  
  
  
  



	4. A Gift or Two

Okay before everyone burns me at the stake here's the deal on 'The Fire": The next part was written and hell even most of it was typed up. But I had to change it all because....um....well...I did. I made a big mistake and....er...so, that is the reason why I haven't posted it yet. It should be up soon. I promise.  
  
I'm sorry it took so long with this chapter, but exams just ended etc. etc. This chapter goes off in a different direction that some will think is weird and does not relate to anything...oh well cause it will eventually....   
  
Anyway thanks for all the reviews! I love reading them all and the constructive criticisms are very helpful. It's really encouraging after you write a story that someone appreciates your work. Thanks again!  
  
Okay I am shutting up right about now....sorry about that little spiel.  
  
  
  
  
Disclaimer: I'd love to say that I do work on the show, but alas I can not. Oh well....  
  
  
  
The Final Part of Our 8th Grade Christmas*   
  
  
  
~Arnold~  
  
  
I studied the boy before me, or I guess more accurately the young man. He was 15 and towered over me. He had wavy blond hair cut in a mushroom style with a few freckles sprinkled across his nose left over from spending a lot of the summer outside (my guess from playing soccer). His hazel eyes gazed at me and   
from up close I could depict his long eyelashes. To sum it up he looked like he had just stepped out of a teen fashion magazine.   
  
"Hello." His voice was deep and smooth, but I heard an iciness to it that baffled me.  
  
"Sorry," I apologized.  
  
"It's okay," he replied. When he spoke his breath misted out in front of him, showing how cold the bitter air was.  
  
"Um I guess I'll see ya around," I added, growing uncomfortable. I was about to walk past him, but his hand caught my shoulder.   
  
"I need to talk to you," he said solemnly with a graveness that chilled the bones in my body.  
  
"Oh?" I looked at him curiously. What did he want with me?  
  
"Yes, about Helga."   
  
"What about her? Is something the matter?" He gave me a strange look with his keen, hazel eyes.  
  
"Yes, I think there is." He paused. His lips were formed into a frown, and his arms were folded over his chest. "I really like her, but you are coming between us, I can tell." I started to laugh, my laughter rung in the biting air as I began to shake my head. I doubted the guy had any idea of how Helga really treated me.  
  
"I don't think so. Helga hates me!" I had to grin at the thought of Helga ditching this high-school dream boy for me.  
  
"No she doesn't," replied Andrew with a drop dead serious tone that startled me. "I've seen the way she looks at you-"  
  
I scoffed. "Have you seen the way she treats me? She'll yell at me, insult me, and threaten me whenever she gets half an opportunity to. She always has and always will despise me." My voice was firm, but at the same time I knew that it was not completely true. Andrew either did not notice my doubts or pretended   
not to.  
  
"There is something you're missing." He paused to turn his head away to watch a few young children joyfully playing across the street. "I saw you guys kiss the other night." I could feel my face flush a deep, dark, crimson red, and I was grateful for the distraction of the children playing in the snow. "Neither of you can see it, but I can."  
  
"See what?" His serious tone was continuing to puzzle me, and impatience was beginning to win me over.  
  
"That spark, you two have it. You don't realize it though. It's almost like you two were made for each other." My eyes widened at his statement. He turned towards me and grinned slightly on seeing the bewildered expression on my face.  
  
"Made for each other?! I don't think so. We can barely stand each other!" I cried.  
  
"I seriously doubt that's the case. I imagine Helga might actually like you." His hazel eyes sparkled with an almost hypocritical laughter.  
  
"What's with everyone thinking that Helga likes me? She hates me!" I snapped feeling very annoyed. He had not been the first person to make that assumption, but what bothered me more was that he was acting like he knew us (meaning Helga and myself) better than we knew ourselves. I did not appreciate it.   
  
"She treats me like I'm scum between her toes." To my great surprise the boy nodded as if he had anticipated my response.  
  
"Of course she does. I haven't known her for very long, but there is one thing I do understand about her."  
  
"And what's that?" I asked almost bitterly.  
  
"She'll never admit anything. She is not that kind of person. And the last thing in the world she would do if she did like you was show it and tell you how she felt." I shook my head in frustration.  
  
"That doesn't make any sense whatsoever!" Andrew smiled at me patiently and paused to run his hand through his blonde hair.  
  
"Well neither does she." I was not exactly sure what to say to that response.  
  
"If Helga did like me she would at least treat me better," I retorted. I could not accept that explanation for the way Helga was. It did not make sense: not one ounce of truth or reality was there.  
  
"She doesn't treat you all that bad. Not from what I've seen," he remarked slyly.  
  
"Oh, and what by chance have you seen?" Had he been following Helga and me around? Maybe I was right about this guy: perhaps he was bad news.  
  
"I saw what she just did for you." He had been following us around! "You know she wouldn't do that for just anyone." I shrugged finding the fluffy white flakes on the ground remarkably interesting. Our shadows from the streetlight were outlined on the powdery snow. "But I guess you coming between us is   
only for the best." I looked up. What was he getting at?  
  
"What do you mean?" I asked curiously. He straightened his strong shoulders built from being a star athlete.  
  
"I have to break up with her sooner or later. I guess it might as well be sooner. I can't run the risk of staying with her, not with my reputation on the line." My eyes met his and I had a feeling I must have been subconsciously glaring at him.  
  
"You mean you are going to dump Helga just because you think we have a thing for each other?!" I snapped, much to my surprise. I had never been the type of person to snap or get angry about anything. I've always been Mr. Calm.  
  
"Of course not." He shook his head at my misunderstanding. "I just want to make sure she does not dump me. The 10th grader who gets disposed of by an 8th grader would surely get laughed out of high school."   
  
He stopped for a brief moment to try and brush some snow out of his hair for it was beginning to snow again. "You two can go out, but only after I break up with her."  
  
I stood there startled and angry. I glared at Andrew. "Don't you even like Helga? Don't you know she has feelings too? Why are you so worked up with your stupid reputation?" My questions were hurried from my frustration. How could someone be so low?  
  
"I do like Helga, I like her a lot in fact, but I can tell she doesn't feel the same way about me. She's playing along. Anyway there's something about her that I don't like, sometimes she almost...." He looked away and muttered something inaudible under his breath. I had stirred up some emotion that hurt him incredibly. He began to walk away and would have left without so much as a goodbye if I had not stepped in.   
  
I watched him with the snow beginning to fall harder in the background. I studied his back and the red jacket he was wearing as he passed under a streetlight. He was getting farther away, but I called out to him before the distance was too great.  
  
"Almost frightens you?" He stopped dead in his tracks. For a moment he just stood there without moving a muscle until he slowly turned to face me. Since he was no longer under a streetlight I could not observe his face, but I knew there was a strange look plastered on it.  
  
"She does frighten you, doesn't she?" I prodded. All of sudden things were becoming clear. "She scares you." Andrew stood still, protected by the darkness of the evening. I could hear his steady breathing. No one spoke for quite some time. The children had gone inside to get away from the chilly December air to warm themselves. This left the two of us in a dreadfully eerie silence. He finally shattered it.  
  
"How did you-?" His voice was trembling and the unsteadiness erased any single lingering doubt I had.  
  
"It's hard to hide those things. I know that from my own experiences. But denying everything isn't going to solve anything, right?"  
  
More silence.  
  
"But accepting it isn't going to solve anything now is it?" His bitter voice stung the cold air after a minute of a tense peace. He did not wait for me to respond. "That's what you don't get. I'm not denying anything...I'm just refusing to accept it, I won't let that happen."  
  
"But it has already happened."  
  
"No, it hasn't," he answered stubbornly, staring down at the fluffy whiteness refusing to meet my eyes. He did not want me to the see truth, but I could see it anyway.  
  
"You're denying it," I said firmly. Before my eyes it stood crystal clear, and I wondered if Helga herself was aware of what was going and what had been going on.  
  
"I am not!" he replied, refusing to give in. I rolled my eyes. I guess what I had heard about high school was true...people there don't get any maturer. I could not help but wonder when they ever do.  
  
"Forget I said anything," I mumbled. "Go and dump her if you think that's the right thing to do. It has nothing to do with me. Helga and me ...we're just friends if that." He glanced up for a brief moment and stepped into the brimming rays of the streetlight. With the shadow over his face gone I could see how bright his hazel eyes were as the light illuminated them.   
  
"Goodbye, and Merry Christmas," I said simply and turned to leave. I knew my grandparents would probably be getting worried over my long absence.  
  
I did not look over shoulder to glance back at Andrew. I could only imagine he was staring after my retreating body, trying to brush the freshly fallen snow off his hair all the while wondering what he should do.  
  
I stepped into the boardinghouse and was thankful that Grandpa had recently fixed the furnace. The warm air was a comfort to my half-frozen body. I dusted off the snow and took off my jacket before proceeding in walking into the kitchen.  
  
"Hi Grandma, hi Grandpa," I greeted. My Grandma glanced up from the stove while my Grandpa looked up from the paper he had been reading.  
  
"Oh good you're back, Shortman. Me and Pookie were beginning to get worried." He paused to place the paper down. "How are you feeling?"  
  
I shrugged. "I've been better." He ruffled my hair and grinned.  
  
"That's understandable." I looked at what was set on the kitchen table. My eyes enlarged at the sight of the two objects my grandparents had been holding earlier in the day. I cautiously took a step forward and reached out to touch the two charred black objects.  
  
"Is that...?" Somehow despite the objects having been burned beyond recognition I knew what they were. My grandpa nodded. I took them in my hands feeling the black soot on my skin. I turned to go to my room. I needed to be alone.  
  
"I'll call you when dinner's ready," my grandpa called after me. As if I was in a dream, I made way up to my room and sat down the two objects still in my hands. Pressing my cheek against them, knowing that my own parents had once held them, I closed my eyes.  
  
*"That part of our lives is over, Edwardo. We have a little boy now."  
  
"We won't be gone for long. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa."   
  
"Next week when we get back I'll take you to the park.   
  
" Mommy loves you."  
  
"Daddy loves you."*  
  
For a long time I just held the charred objects close to my skin, wanting so much to bring my parents back to me. I tried to remember the sound of their laughter, their smile, their quirks, or simply just the sound of their voice and what they looked like. Only little glimpses could come to my mind. I wondered how you could know someone for such a short amount of time and how their leaving could still hurt you so much.  
  
But I did not cry. I never cried. I could not remember the last time I had let tears shed from my eyes, and I was not about to start no matter what pain was brought on me. Someone had to be strong.   
  
I placed their hats on top of my bookshelf before returning to my bed. Lying down, I turned to gaze up at the skylight, although all I could see was a white blanket, there were other images dancing in my mind. I let out a deep sigh. Some Christmas this had turned out to be.   
  
  
  
~Helga~  
  
  
I looked out my bedroom window. From the streetlights I could see that powdery snow was once again beginning to fall on the ground. If I ever had to move to a warmer place I decided that I would miss the snow greatly. Nothing compares to the first snow day of the year when instead of sitting in a stuffy classroom you get to battle in a snowball fight to the bitter end. Not to mention the feeling you get when there's a white, picture perfect Christmas.   
  
Of course it's freezing. Your nose turns a bright pink while your cheeks become rosy: full of life and color. And the roads are covered with hard ice that could shatter your delicate bones. In addition, there's the chaos that comes with a freak blizzard: the mad rush to the stores to stock up on bread and water. But despite the drawbacks of winter I could not help but feel that in the end the snow was worth it. People who had never seen its fluffy whiteness blanketing a city, or tasted its coldness upon their tongue, do not understand and unless they experience it for themselves never do.  
  
But I guess it's still Christmas even without snow forming the perfect background for the holiday. There's so much more to Christmas than the scenery. There's your family.  
  
I closed my eyes and could feel the pain that throbbed in my bones from that seemingly harmless word. Family. I wondered if other families were like mine. Perhaps I was the only girl who had ever felt like I did not belong, that I was not good enough for my family's approval, or that I was simply a mistake, something that should have never happened.   
  
But then again I often think I got off with a good life. I had a family didn't I? They cared about me. I guess inside I knew they did, but it was so hard to see it and it was hard for them to show it. I guess in a way I was like the rest of my family. I didn't show my feelings, maybe because I felt that my strong passions and emotions were my greatest weaknesses, but it might be fear. Fear of what everyone would see if they knew me. Knew me? I laughed bitterly. I hardly even knew myself...  
  
But I did have a family and in the end that's all that matters isn't? You shouldn't get caught up with the particulars like the amount of attention you receive, the way they treat you, or anything along that sort, should you? I wondered what it would be like to have no family at all. You could never complain about the way your mother bothers you with her tendency to be forgetful, how inconsiderate your dad is, or how overbearing your older sister acts. I wondered what it was like for Arnold.  
  
He had a family. Not a very ordinary one, but they cared about him nevertheless. They had made him into the wonderful, charming boy he was today. But at the same time I had to feel sorry for him for what he lacked. Parents. Real parents.  
  
I sat upright on my bed, very startled. It was happening again, that strange sensation. I could feel the wet tears slip down my cheek. Why was I crying? I didn't even know them, but then why did the news of their death hurt me so much?  
  
'Because it hurts him.' WHAM! Realization hit me straight on with the weight of ten tons of bricks. Maybe that voice spoke the truth, maybe it was speaking for my soul, what I wanted so much to deny.  
  
I had always tried to protect him, to shield him for longer than I could remember. I treated him as if he were a delicate being full of morals and ideological values, and those virtues so greatly bestowed upon him, could be easily taken away. I had done so much for him, more than he would ever know in hopes that he could forever cling onto dreams and think that perhaps it is possible for them to come true. I wanted him to believe in miracles.   
  
But I was only human and I knew I could not do battle for the reality of life forever. But at the same time I felt this deep pang of guilt that cut right at my heart. I had not been able to protect him and had caused his hopeless dream of one, fateful day being reunited with his parents to be shattered into millions of pieces.   
  
I could not protect him from everything. I would not always be there for him. We would grow up and go our separate ways. I wanted to be his guardian angel, showing him that there was still good left in the world, and a reason to be a wonderful, virtuous person. I felt that sometimes you just needed a reason to be a righteous person, to know that it was worth it. I was afraid that the little boy I had spent most of my childhood obsessing over would suddenly change. *'Change? Change into what? Arnold will never change. You know it, I know it.'*  
  
"Helga? Oh baby sister there you are!" My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by my sister swinging open my door in excitement and dashing to my bedside. I inwardly groaned. I was not in the mood for her endless prattle.  
  
"I've been looking all over the city for you! I was getting really worried, you know you should not run off like that, baby sister."  
  
My annoyance was growing. "I'm 13, Olga, I can take care of myself and-" She did not let me finish.  
  
"Helga, there's one more Christmas present for you! I saved it for last." Her voice was rushed and high full of enthusiasm. She had been anxiously awaiting my arrival and I knew she was dying to see my reaction to the gift.  
  
I stretched my arms out and stood up. "Where is it?" I let a yawn escape. I had to admit I was very tired. Christmas had not exactly turned out to be the most relaxing day this year.  
  
She clapped her hands in excitement. "I'll show you." She dragged me downstairs and out the door and practically shoved me into her car. 'This must be some present.'  
  
"Where are we going?" Olga turned the key in the car and pressed down hard on the acceleration. The engine zoomed into life.  
  
"You'll see, baby sister." The car jerked forward. The automobile sped past familiar shops and streets to the outskirts of the city, a strange place, although not very far away, I had rarely visited the area before. I gave my older sister a quizzical look as she turned the car into a long driveway. I was blinded by the dark of the evening, unable to determine my location. The car came to an abrupt halt.  
  
"This is it," she shrieked, unbuckling her seat-belt and jumping out the door before I could even open my mouth to utter, 'What's going on?' because there was no one to answer me. Muttering explicits under my breath, I got out of the car and stepped onto a dusty road, only to find that I was in the middle of nowhere.  
  
A light from on top of strange building shone down brightly on some sort of fence. I glanced back at the building. It was such a strange structure: even its smell was unusual. I jumped at a startling noise. Feeling very nervous, I looked around only to find I was alone, Olga was gone.  
  
"Olga?" I called out, my voice was shaky, and I felt the whole atmosphere of the strange place was unsettling. I heard the noise again. Distant yet distinct, but the noise caused my eyes to widen as I turned towards the fence, slowly approaching it. I stopped as I reached it and very cautiously spoke. "Is anyone there? Olga?"  
  
Someone stuck his or her head into the brimming light, or more accurately something. Jumping back, I covered my mouth to keep myself from screaming aloud at the sight of the creature that stood before me, its powerful structure outlined in the darkness of the evening.  
  
Fiery eyes met my own, and I heard a decisive snort. Blinking in disbelief, I reached out to touch the creature. At first it jerked its head away and I gasped, snapping my hand back to my side, which only frightened the animal more. It stared at me while I stood perfectly still.  
  
Then slowly and cautiously it leaned its head towards me. I paled, fearing that its massive jaw would bite into my flesh, but instead it placed its forehead against my shoulder and slowly rubbed against my joint. Startled and shaken I could only stare at the creature while it used my shoulder as an itching post.  
  
I could see it clearly now. A dark bay: a brown coat with a black mane wild from lack of proper grooming over the winter. Its face was strong and proud. A white stripe rested from between its fiery eyes to between its nostrils. Tentatively, I reached up to touch its delicate muzzle. This time the creature did not shy from me. The velvety muzzle was soft and the whiskers tickled my fingers.  
  
"Helga? Oh there you are baby sister!" It jumped back in fright while I spun around to face Olga, angered by her intrusion with the bonding moment I had been sharing with the creature. My sister let a sly grin creep across her lips. She motioned to the animal who stood a few feet from the fence, watching us with keen eyes.  
  
"What do you think?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement.  
  
"Of what?" I was still confused by the whole situation, but the pieces were beginning to fit into my mind.  
  
"Of him." I turned to face the creature, wanting to make sure that she was referring to it and nothing else.  
  
"What about him?" I kept my voice passive and unexcited. I refused to get my hopes up...I did not want them to get struck down by reality.  
  
"He's yours." Her voice was soft and sweet. The voice that I had spent so much of my life loathing and despising yet at that moment that overbearing voice sounded so beautiful, so wonderful that I regretted every horrible thing I had ever done to my older sister.  
  
"No joke? No angle?" I did not want to believe it, but at the same time I felt my heart leap for joy. She approached me and put her arms around me in one of her typical bone-crushing embraces.  
  
"Not at all. He needed a home, and I thought that maybe my baby sister could take care of him. He's awfully young, but the people who gave him to me showed me how much talent he has."  
  
As if hearing the compliment the animal nickered softly. I slowly pulled away from my sister. He made his way toward me, walking steadily with his long legs striding in a quick pace.   
  
"I was sure you'd love him, baby sister. He can be a bit shy, but if he's well taken care I'm sure he will get over it."  
  
"What about Mom and Dad?" I asked refusing to turn away from the magnificent creature that stood before me.  
  
"I got them to go along with it. Owning him will teach you responsibility, and the rewards of hard work."   
  
I turned back to Olga, my eyes brimming with salty tears. I flung my arms around her, something I thought I would never do.  
  
"Thank you." I was trying desperately to choke back my happy sobs. A loud neigh shattered the tender sisterly moment. We both looked up to see him, fiery yet gentle, tamed but still wild as he reared up hooves kicking the air. My very own horse.  
  
Every young girl has at one time or another dreamed of owning a horse. I knew next to nothing about them. My sister was an expert as I was well aware of, but the thought of owning such an animal had hardly ever crossed my mind and despite that fact it still was the greatest gift I had ever received on Christmas Day.   
  
Something inside of me told me that this horse might be the answer I had been looking for to the questions I dared not ask for fear of finally knowing what the answers might actually be. And something else told me that things were never going to be the same again.  
  
~Fini~  
  
  
*This whole story (if you don't know by now) is a flashback on various Christmases Helga and Arnold spent together. This is the end of their 8th grade Christmas (I really didn't mean for it to go on this long) and the next part is probably going to be about their 10th or 12th grade one. For those of you who are wondering why on earth I had a horse enter the story, trust me it'll be very important later on...   
  
Oh and I didn't really know the exact lines from his parents...that was just from memory so its probably wrong...I haven't taped that ep yet.  
  
I just replaced it...the spacing should be fixed.  
  



End file.
